


With God As My Witness

by HomesickAlien



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 00:50:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13559172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HomesickAlien/pseuds/HomesickAlien
Summary: Change isn't as bad as it seems.





	With God As My Witness

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be a really happy goofy fic with dancing and swearing and good times but i got too deep and then i thought about shuuetsu graduation and i started crying like a lot  
> im still not confident about my writing but no one can stop me from spreading God's word about Nagibara.... Adam's previews were so good I'm still playing them on repeat damn.... Damn! Give me more Adam, Akira, you coward!!!!!!!!!!! I lvoe them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11111

Motivation always comes in the smallest of packages.

He’s certain it used to come from darker places, from a need to survive in this cruel world. From violent strifes and tactics born only out of winning wars, but even those have been failing him as of late. Or, perhaps, his heart’s just opened up too much, and he’s gained so much positive energy he’s become irreparably broken, fumbling on his toes to commit to the most basic of movements. 

Maybe, for a time, the only thing on his mind when writing out long, endlessly detailed scripts for his leader were born out of a need to win. To be up top and superior to all the rest, a mutual goal of theirs that serve the both of them differently. But now, it serves a different purpose, entirely, and it’s less of their enemies stuck on his mind when he’s up in the late hours of the night typing out Nagisa’s character and more the man himself. The man he admires and can’t get a clue on all the same, maybe it’d be easier if Nagisa had a consistent character, one that sounds organic to their audience and less like he were reciting Ibara’s own. It stings a bit to insult his own work, the Nagisa Ran he’s created for the stage, one that sounds so much more elegant and blunt than the enigma he really is. He feels more insulted in Nagisa’s presence than insulting himself, though.

Nagisa is a bit too good to him, he’s certain of it. At first, maybe he thought it were some kind of God-like pity that Nagisa agreed to stick with him, with Adam, with Eden, but it’s nothing short of genuine love. That’s all Nagisa is, really, a man full of love and no idea how to express it. Flowing out with his feelings like a waterfall, Ibara has just become like a weight to keep him balanced. To keep him focused on the prize, the Golden Gates, even if he’s branded in the same light as the Devil, he’d like to see what it’s like, too. Heaven, that is.

So he keeps it in his mind, who Nagisa Ran is, from the very moment they’d first met. It’s no longer, what should Nagisa say for us to defeat our opponents but rather, what would Nagisa say to defeat our opponents. 

As it turns out, thinking about what Nagisa would say is rather tiring, after all. He’s not sure they’d ever even properly been introduced, he’s only slowly been picking up on those odd mannerisms of his recently since considering the option. It’s been nothing short of tactical genius on his part, even the way Nagisa reads his lines has become far more natural, and thus more intimidating. He supposes nothing is gained from taking the easy route in life, but this certainly could serve to be a bit less frustrating, he’s sure. 

Maybe it’s childish, but he wouldn’t mind doing something more casual to understand his partner better. But it feels like everything has its motivations, even something as simple as offering to do laundry, there’s always a catch. Nagisa must see it, too, and maybe if he sees through him, he’d act too accordingly, always that form of kindness that feels empty and forced. Nagisa can be such a difficult child, full of words he doesn’t understand how to use, they’re both constantly guiding one another on how to live in this world. One of them is just a bit better at it than the other, so he sees it, anyway.

Ibara leans back in his chair with a sigh, looking into Nagisa’s eyes as the blood rushes to his head. It’s so funny watching Nagisa watch him expectantly, never sleeping until Ibara does, which only serves to guilt him further when he keeps himself busy some nights even until the sun rises. He’s a curious thing, after all, but he never tries to hide it. In his eyes, they’re wide and mysterious, empty and devoid of any solid, concrete emotion. He doesn’t know, if Nagisa is happy or sad, if he’s angry or tired, if he’s annoyed or content. He’s not sure it matters if he did know, maybe only just for writing his scripts, but ultimately those things have no impact on them as a whole. 

“Why are you still awake, your Excellency? Certainly you know as an idol you need to sleep properly to maintain your beauty and finesse on stage, correct?”

“...Why do you always speak as though you aren’t one, too?”

“Aren’t one what, sir?”

Ibara lifts his head, feigning his own ignorance, he knows what Nagisa is going to say, but the reassurance he’s scripting him properly is nice. He turns his chair to face Nagisa, always speaking as equally as two vastly different people can. They have so little in common it’s difficult, almost draining, to have a conversation, but there’s joy in that kind of mental work out, as well.

“An idol.”

“Sometimes I am, and sometimes I’m not,” He responds, bluntly. “I’ll sleep when the time is right for me.”

He smiles in that devilish way of his, the one that somewhat concedes to his defeat, as he’s certain he will be pestered into stopping here for the night whether he wishes to or not. It’s good to have someone with that kind of power over him, he’s not sure he’d ever quit if he weren’t being balanced out, and then he’d be no better than the girl he’s oft insulting for working too hard. He can’t help himself, he gets so caught up in the details he overthinks the world that’s so much more simple than he imagines it to be. People are so simple, so caught up in themselves, it’s difficult to predict what step they’re on, how to get ahead in the match before it ever starts. That’s his own fatal flaw, he thinks too much and speaks so little. Nagisa is the opposite, he thinks.

“Are you too tired to get up and practice with me?” Ibara says, standing up and closing his laptop, “I was thinking, we don’t ever spend any casual time together, do we? It is a careless oversight on my part, don’t you think?”

Ibara hums, though he starts at the unexpected touch of Nagisa already inches behind him. Such an odd person, as omnipresent as God without any of the subtlety, he sticks out like a sore thumb in a crowd of grey blobs. Maybe that’s too spiteful, maybe Nagisa could find his place in the world, and maybe he already has and Ibara is undermining his effort. There his mind goes, overthinking things again; he gratefully takes Nagisa’s hand in his, trying not to be too humble. Certainly, there’s often a feeling of ingenuity when Ibara speaks in his polite manner, but he finds the more time he spends with Nagisa, the more he begins to truly see him as his leader. Which, in essence, is odd, Eden is his child, after all, and yet with time it’s starting to disgustingly resemble a family.

A family… That manner of speaking that they’d insulted their enemy—  _ Yumenosaki—  _ for, has now become their muse. It’s so utterly hopeless, he’s lost his grip on them and now it feels like he’s starting to find comfort in something new. In being close, spiritually and physically, to the three of them, that was never in his ideals at all. 

But, whether he says it out loud or not, he’s sure all of them know well he loves them just as much. For seeing something in him no one else has, something disgusting and vile as love, ah, the simple thought of it has his skin crawling. He’s as terrible as the Devil who’s name he bears. Even Lucifer loved Adam and Eve as God did, they’re all aiming for the same ephemeral paradise. 

“...Ibara? You look lost in your thoughts again.”

“I often am these days, aren’t I? It is pitiful of me to show weakness, and yet it would be more painful if I always had to be on my toes, wouldn’t it?”

Ibara presses Nagisa’s hands over his cheeks, letting Nagisa feel the most basic level of truth in his words and loosen up a bit. Nagisa doesn’t often doubt or distrust Ibara’s intuition, he wouldn’t have the life experience Ibara has to criticize him, either, but it seems defeat for them has opened up new doors unforeseen to them before. He can’t help but wonder if his love is reaching Ibara, if it’s changing him, if that’s what he really wants at all.

Without thinking, he’s blurting out his endless array of philosophies, again. 

“Do you believe love is a tragic thing…? I once thought it were the only solid truth to hold onto, taught to me such a long time ago, the world ‘love,’ feels like my very first, and still it never reaches the hearts of people as I expect it to, as an idol…”

It’s always such heavy thoughts from Nagisa, thoughts that have no bearing on reality, that seem to spring up from such odd places in his heart. They’re words from a child who never learned to properly speak, so long and drawn out he wonders where Nagisa gets the nerve to criticize him for staying up late. He can’t even be certain if it’s solace Nagisa seeks, he’s certain he’ll never find it in this life. He might not even find it in Heaven, if they make it that far, anyway.

“Maybe I’ve been too harsh in denying myself the pleasure of love,” Ibara smiles, “Is that it? If I practice love, maybe I could finish it. My perfect Nagisa Script.”

As he’d thought, it’s a decadent smile laced with the poison of the Devil. Always as it is with him, everything has its purpose, but it’s the smallest of steps forward that comfort Nagisa to sleeping soundly at night. That seed of positivity planted in Ibara’s heart, maybe if he let’s it be it will bloom soundly overtime, but right now, just a sprout is well enough.

Ibara yawns making evident the time, the sun will rise before they even make it into their bed at this rate. He doesn’t have the words to cut off their conversation, if one could even call it that much, he simply takes the hand Nagisa’s already given him to fall into sleep's arms gently together. 

There’s comfort in pairings, he thinks. God is nothing much without Lucifer, the sun nothing much without the moon, and Nagisa nothing much without Ibara. Were they born into that role, or has it come naturally to them upon meeting? He doesn’t mind either way, it’s a callous philosophy that means nothing outside of the thought, the same could be said of Nagisa’s fears of love. It’s not a matter of it happening cleanly, in a clear manner that Nagisa understands, but that Nagisa’s warmth can bring about pleasant dreams in his partner. That Nagisa’s heart beat can speak to him of a goal above bloodshed, above war, that wades off the darkest of memories of his childhood and brings insight to a third option he’s never known of before. Not love, or hate, but something right in the middle. Being partners, if it’s as ephemeral as this, he can’t help himself from finding fear only in how he’ll sleep at night when Nagisa’s gone.

Their year, together, it felt so eternal once, but that, too, will fade, soon. 

**Author's Note:**

> comment please!!! i really love comments!! please tell me how much you love ibara and nagisa !!!! i hope they get to kiss soon !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
> this fic could be a lot better but im lazy and have a huge backlog so ... it was more self indulgent im sorry i just !!! someday ill make them kiss mark my words


End file.
